Tahjee Ballard - F4R Sure lyrics

(Hook) I got my Bro's wit' me They hit the road wit' me They get this dough wit' me They hit these hoes wit' me (×2) We be them n***as for sure We be them n***as for sure Might pull up and hop out the Porsche You know what them choppas is for We be them n***as for sure We be them n***as for sure Get that work straight from the source Runnin' the streets since I came off the porch (Verse 1) I just Touchdown on these hoes yeah I score She pop a pill and transform like Zord Wide body built like a Bentley Azure Fresh to d**h like I just came out the Morgue No lie Im at they neck like a bowtie So wavy I got 'em seasick like a boat ride she gave me that cho-cha Her skin tone was Mocha Ain't talkin' 1 million sh** Im talkin' multi (oh God) Just give me the check I don't need a grammy When she come to me she don't need no panties They say it's mind over matter You better mind all that chatter 'fore we tag ya spine and ya bladder My pockets on swole like Im juicin' Drinkin' purp by the pint like it's Houston gotta realize it's deeper than music If I pull out the choppa I use it Be in the mix wit' the players They see me kickin' this flavor Speakin' in General sh** can get Major Talkin' 'bout Mansions that's sittin' on acres mixin' my d** now Im heavily lit Gettin' to it Im ridin' down 76 My hustle religious some heavenly sh** I done been up some nights I can never forget (Hook) (Verse 2) My hustle so grand got ya b**h on my Tip her a** pokin' out and she flip wit' the lips she play by the rules I might slip her the dick got an addiction Im itchin' to flip Call me The Don Diego Montoya He catch a Homi I pay for the Lawyer This for the Ballards the Greens and the Boyers We in the Penthouse they just in the foyer b**h Im the Golden one like De la Hoya Step in this ring wit' me Ima destroy ya young n***a all 'bout his beans like Im Goya b**h Ima dog and that's word to the Hoyas cruise through the city her head in my lap shout out the ones gettin' bread in the Trap talk dirty on phones have the Feds on ya jack They callin' me Stroehmann the bread by the rack I ride the track like a trolley I used to trap out the Alley Im talkin' pitchin' that Holly I got ya b**h on a Molly Real n***as only a secret society Im on a drug f** ya sobriety Addin' on commas like we hit the lottery shout out to everyone that ever doubted me (Hook) *×2